Threats Foreign and Domestic
by seven dragons
Summary: A morality tale about tea kettles. Jean must come to terms with new technology imported by Lucien from abroad.


**Author's note: This one-shot was inspired by the conversation on Tumblr about appliances in the Blake kitchen, especially missousier's excellent research on period electric kettles. The story takes place very early in season 1.**

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Something was out of place. Jean Beazley could sense it. Jean had awoke early, as was her habit. She dressed and headed downstairs to make breakfast. As soon as she entered the kitchen she knew something was different. It didn't take long to find the offending object, a tan pitcher with a brown lid was sitting on the counter under the cupboard. It didn't belong to her or the former doctor. Jean reasoned that Lucien must have set it there sometime yesterday. His possessions seemed to be filling the house since he moved in. Among the many "exotic treasures" he brought with him from the Orient were some dusty boxes, tourist-grade decorative masks, some prints that could be found in any shop in Australia, and a silk bathrobe that was so extravagant Jean felt embarrassed be in the room when he wore it. And now there was an ugly jug. Jean ignored it and went about her morning. A while later Lucien came in, giving Jean a cheerful greeting. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he took the newly appeared pitcher and filled it with water. It had a plug trailing from the back that she had not noticed before.

"What are you doing?" Jean nodded in the direction of the pitcher.

"Oh this. It's an electric kettle. We had one in our office in Hong Kong. Couldn't live without it."

Jean leaned over, interested now. Lucien was happy to oblige.

"See, the electrical element inside heats the water."

Jean raised an eyebrow. "Electric and water? Doesn't look very safe to me."

"Oh it's fine. I've had one for years."

"You know I remember my grandmother had an old one of those, when she came over from Ireland."

Lucien smiled. "See?"

"It shorted out and burned their house down."

Lucien paused for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "Well Jean, the newer ones are much safer."

"I see. And are you planning on taking the toaster with you into the bath tonight as well?"

Lucien looked affronted. "It saves a lot of time. The water boils faster."

"How long did it take you to boil water before?"

Lucien threw his hands up in defeat. "Fine, I'll just leave this here, for now."

"Go ahead. We have plenty of room on the counter."

If Lucien noticed the sarcasm he ignored it.

Two weeks later, Jean was busy. Trying to cook dinner for four, a dish for the church pot luck, and a casserole for an ill friend, Jean had managed to occupy every burner on the range and both ovens. The kitchen was in disarray and she was tired. She was dying for a cup of tea. She filled up the tea kettle and turned towards the range, only to realize with dismay that she didn't have a free burner. There would be no tea until she had finished all her cooking tasks, and that would be some time. Jean sat down and sighed heavily.

The electric kettle caught her eye. It was still there. Try as she might to ignore it, it had not moved in two weeks. Jean debated the situation in her head for a moment but the need for tea quickly won out. She filled the pitcher half way, set the lid, and plugged it in. It didn't take long. The problem now was pouring it. Even unplugged Jean did not trust that it wouldn't electrocute her. Hand straight out, she held the pitcher as far away from her body as she could, as if her tea cup might explode when the water hit it. She was so absorbed in this very dangerous task that she did not notice Lucien. He was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, an amused grin on his face.

"Need some help there?"

Jean looked up and scowled. "I am perfectly capable of making tea, thank you."

"Oh then I'll take one myself."

Jean looked down at the offending pitcher and looked worried. Blake laughed. "You fetch a tea cup, I'll pour."

Jean did not argue. Sitting together at the one uncluttered corner of the kitchen table, Jean was happy to have a drink before she started with the next phase of her cooking projects. She was grateful for a break, but Lucien kept smirking at her.

Finally he asked, "So? Does it still taste like tea?"

Jean looked at him and couldn't help but smile.

"I don't know, tastes a little high voltage to me."

Lucien looked around the kitchen. "The house doesn't seem to be on fire."

Jean gave him a pointed look. "Not yet."

"You don't seem to have been electrocuted either."

Jean rolled her eyes. "Fine you've made your point."

Lucien set his empty cup down on the table, rising to leave. "Still, I think we should call the firies just in case."

Lucien ducked out of the kitchen just before a wooden spoon went flying across the room.


End file.
